I am certain that I am not alone in enjoying the change of season. When it comes to cycles, Autumn is the season that usually sets me to pondering the turning of time. And pondering often brings me to poetry (the writing and reading of). So, for the next while, I figured I'd share some of the autumn-related poems that I love. I'm considering making ( Read more... )

First the poem, then a bit of discussion. But only a bit because I'm feeling rather like I've been struck by a bus. (It's a combination of my rheumatoid arthritis and a fall up some steps.) Given how I'm feeling - and the fact that I posted this poem for brennayovanoff the other day, this poem seemed somehow appropriate. Because he gave me permission to use his ( Read more... )

Today's post contains the last poem for this year's celebration of National Poetry Month. The next post will contain a complete Table of Contents for the posts, which you can also access through my tags by clicking on "building a poetry collection". I contemplated going with something that sounded like a definite ending. Specifically, I ( Read more... )

Yesterday's poem was The Sea Has Its Pearls by Heinrich Heine, which I translated from the original German. With all its talk of the sea and the sky, I must confess that the poem I first thought to follow it with love is more thicker than forget by E.E. Cummings, which picks up on the idea of big love, and references, in its final stanza, the sky ( Read more... )

From "Crossing the Bar", a poem about death that's related to the sea, to "Sea-Fever", a poem about wanderlust and the sea, it was a short hop to Emily Dickinson. No, really.

I started Early-Took my Dog ( Read more... )

To start today, a little Emily Dickinson. Okay, a longish poem for Emily, really, coming in at 51 lines. But it's lovely. I do so wish I knew who it was that truly held her heart. As with most poems and all Dickinson, I strongly recommend reading this one aloud, remembering that the dashes she used were to indicate pause, and that where one doesn't ( Read more... )

This morning the sky is a cold, pale blue, and the sun is bright, though not warm. It is both cooled and intensified by the snow, which lies on the ground looking puckered like a quilt from where the winds raced across yesterday during the storm. The bird feeder roof wears a white cap, and more birds than usual seem to have made their way to my ( Read more... )

Valentine's Day is, as we know, rife with images of Cupid, whose motto ought to be spreading love through dart wounds since order was brought to chaos. Or something similar. So today, a little bit of love poetry from Miss Emily Dickinson.

I've got an arrow here ( Read more... )

Saturday is February 14th, celebrated in many places as St. Valentine's Day. It's all terribly commercial these days, but there's something a little bit sweet (no pun intended) about the idea of letting the people you love know that you love them ( Read more... )

Today would have been Emily Dickinson's birthday. (Thanks to slatts for pointing that out.) Here, a poem and a picture:

Bring me the sunset in a cup ( Read more... )